


Power Over Her

by KatLeePT



Category: Labyrinth (1986)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-23
Updated: 2016-03-23
Packaged: 2018-05-28 14:39:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,337
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6333043
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KatLeePT/pseuds/KatLeePT
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She knows he's watching.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Power Over Her

She learned long ago how to tell when he's watching her, and she's pleased he still watches her often after all these many years. She wishes she could feel him closer. She wishes he would come nearer, that he would just come to her again. She leaves her window open every night, hoping she'll awaken to one of his grand entrances, but he has not crossed her window sill again since the night he took her baby brother. She would almost gladly give Toby to him just to see him again, just to feel his arms around her again, -- almost.

If only there was a way for them to be together! She has studied every piece of material about the Labyrinth upon which she's been able to lay her hands. All the books claim to be fiction, but Sarah knows better. She remembers the land well, remembers its King far more fondly. She dreams of him every night, sees his smile every time she closes her eyes, and sometimes, sometimes, when she's lucky, she catches the silhouette of an owl gliding against the sun or moon and hears his chuckle in the wind. She smiles at those memories.

But still, she's alone when she steps into her shower tonight. She's alone when she turns on the water and turns her tired face up to its cascading flow. She's alone, but she remembers well. Her body sways as she relives, in her mind, the dance they shared. There was something so powerfully seductive about the King of Goblins that, even as a naive virgin of only fifteen years, she had felt her body being pulled towards his. She still feels that burning ache tonight.

She picks up the soap after washing her long, black hair. Her hands move in circular motions on her wet skin as she remembers how he touched her in those few moments. Every touch of his was so powerful, so masterful . . . He hadn't lied when he'd promised her happiness and ecstasy beyond her wildest imaginings. Sarah knew then, and knows now still, that he could easily give her what he promised.

She sighs. She should have taken him up on that promise, and she would have, too, if Toby hadn't had to suffer for it. Somehow, she always seems to sacrifice herself for her baby brother's happiness. She knows she did the right thing, but still, how she burns!

"Jareth," she whispers his name, and although she can feel him watching her, she can not hear the voices that whisper in expectant hope when she calls upon their King. She can not feel the Goblins' gaze or see how the swift turning of their little, green heads. But then, they were never her focus. It is their King for whom she calls, their King for whom she yearns, their King for whom she's always yearned.

She knows he's watching, and with that knowledge, Sarah takes her time bathing. Her fingers slide slowly over her arching throat, down between her breasts, and over her stomach. She caresses her own skin softly, but as her eyes drift closed, and she feels the connection between them grow tighter as he continues gazing down upon her through one of his countless crystal balls, Sarah begins to forget.

She begins to forget that he's not there, that she's alone. Her fingers linger here and there on her nubile body. They wash over her, with only a trace of soap left, caresses her breasts and going lower. Her own strokes become masterful as she imagines Jareth's fingers. She can almost hear his moan mingling with hers as her hand slides between her legs.

She knows how he would touch her. She knows how he would care for her. He would treat her as the Queen he offered her to become. His touches would be masterful, full of control and power, of seduction that would melt Sarah to her very core, and in her dreams, Sarah's caresses become just so. Her fingers become his.

It is his hands that roam her body with power, not hers. His hands that ignite a burning inferno inside of her, not hers. His tongue she can feel in her mouth, in her core. His name that echoes off the shower walls as Sarah screams.

And his power that makes the thunder roll above her head, Sarah knows. His power radiates in the room as slowly, she drifts down to the realization that he wasn't there at all, at least not physically. He still hasn't come for her, but he did watch her. He did feel what she felt. She smiles, confident in the knowledge that he liked the show she just gave him.

She continues to bathe, still taking her time. She knows now that it is her fingers caressing her wet skin, pushing pass her hair, scrubbing every spot of her body to be ready for him. Just in case he does come, she wants to be clean. She can never be as beautiful as he told her she was, as he made her feel, and perhaps that's why he hasn't come again yet, but she'll try her best to be beautiful for him.

He's still on her mind after she steps out of the shower. She can still feel him as she's drying her long, raven black hair, but then she always feels him. He's always watching her, she knows, and a part of her just wants to scream at him to come get her already and stop playing this game. But she will not bend that much to his power, despite the fact, and despite the lie she told to win Toby back, that he does indeed have a great wealth of power over her heart and her very soul.

He's got the power, but she's given it to him. She's the one who fell in love with him so long ago and has stayed madly in love ever since. She would have gladly stayed in the Labyrinth, goblins, oubliettes, and all, if only Toby had been freed, but he'd never asked her if she'd stay without her brother. She should've volunteered that information, she thinks yet again, but then, there's a thousand things she'd do differently now as a grown woman if she ever got the chance to waltz in her King's arms again. There are a thousand things she'd do differently, starting with kissing him.

And what a kiss it would be! She knows she's be putty in his hands, but she'd be happy putty. One kiss from him would sizzle her all the way to her toes. It would be like dancing on air, every bit as grand as Heaven itself, if not grander, but also every bit as scorching hot as the Sahara in the middle of Summer. Ah, yes, she thinks with a happy, little sigh. It would be the kiss to best all kisses. Let the giggling girls have whatever guy was top of the records or movies in Hollywood. Let them have Valentino and all the others. No one could beat, or even touch, her Jareth.

But then, that's part of the problem, of course. She still can't touch him. She looks up at the bathroom ceiling. "I know you're watching me," she says, challenging, but he doesn't answer. He never does. She sighs, flicks off the light, and pads to the bed she bought for its huge size, hoping to one day share it, and everything else, with her King. She leaves the window open again on this night as she does on every night, hoping he might still come to her and wake her with the reality of the dreams he offers her.

Sarah sighs again as she lays down, but as her cheek touches the pillow, another voice sighs. "You did not call me. You did not say the words," Jareth laments, still, as ever, lingering, unseen, in the shadows, but Sarah neither sees or hears him. She never does.

  
**The End**

**Author's Note:**

> All characters within belong to their rightful owners, not the author, and are used without permission.


End file.
